


The One Where Stiles is Red Riding Hood & Derek Is the Big Bad Wolf

by sparkysparky



Category: Fairy Tales and Related Fandoms, Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Action/Adventure, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Fairy Tales, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-06-24
Updated: 2012-06-27
Packaged: 2017-11-08 10:10:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/442069
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sparkysparky/pseuds/sparkysparky
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>AU set in a fairy tale mideval setting. Stiles is a runaway noble & Derek is the monster in the woods. Based mostly on Red Riding Hood, though some other tales will probably find their way in there along the way.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue (Snippet)

The small village of Beacon Hills lay nestled in a valley, bordered by the Great Sea to the East, the Immense Mountains to the North and the Vast Forest to the West. To the South was a road that led to the King's City, but it was rarely traveled and falling to ruin. Humanity had long ago abandoned the village, and time had erased all traces of the people who once lived there. All that was left were the whispers.

Whispers of beasts that roamed the woods, demons that lived in the sea and monsters that terrorized the mountains. These whispers traveled the long road to the King's City, but the King ignored them. He was a prideful man, insecure in his position as leader. He'd taken this land by force, and the people were not yet loyal. There was gold in those mountains, treasures in that sea and secrets in the forest that were his by right, that would secure his hold on the land. He sent his knights out, again and again, in an fruitless effort to claim the territory for his own. His knights were sent back bloodied, if they returned at all.

The years passed, and with nothing to show for the time spent attempting to conquer the wild land in the North, the King turned his attentions to neighboring kingdoms and politics instead of treasure, until Beacon Hills was nothing but a memory. 


	2. Chapter One

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which we meet the Sheriff King & his son, and an adventure begins.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just ignore the terrible tense shifts tyvm. Also, the anachronistic vernacular, breaking the 4th wall often, abuse of commas and parentheses, awkward transitional sentences & general ridiculousness. All spelling mistakes are mine.

Stilinskiev was a small kingdom, east of the Great Sea and nestled in a cozy southern corner of the Sun Peninsula, where lawful men and women are respected above all others, and nobility of spirit is fashionable. The kingdom has a reputation, well deserved throughout the land, for diplomacy and successful conflict resolution. So successful was the current King in negotiating peace for his people, his Knights had no need for their armor, polished to perfection as it was. It had been centuries since Stilinskiev had been at war--whether with another Kingdom or some magical beast. (In fact, the people of Stilinskiev had all but forgotten the existence of magical creatures. Remember this fact; it will be important to the story later on.) Leaders from foreign kingdoms near and far sought out the advice of the current Stilinskiev King, known with affection as The Sheriff. All in all, Stilinskiev was a very prosperous and pleasant place to call home.   
  
That wasn’t to say that Stilinskiev was without problems. The largest and most current of which was none other than the Sheriff’s son, Prince Stiles. (Now, Stiles was not the Prince’s real name, but it had been so long since he’d been called anything else that even he had trouble remembering what his true name was. This will be important too.) Prince Stiles was of an age where he was expected to leave behind childish things and join his father in ruling the kingdom. The King wouldn’t live forever, and the Prince needed to be taught to be King. The problem, (one of the problems), was that Stiles had no wish to be King. In moments of self doubt he wondered if he even had the  _ability_ to be King, let alone if he’d ever be as respected and powerful as his father.   
  
He knew he was something of a joke to the members of court. The sniggers of the Knights followed him through the halls, and he was not unaware of the whispers from the Lords and Ladies. Prince Stiles did not joust, and the single time he’d attempted to fence he’d almost put the Lord Jackson’s eye out. He lacked focus, his tutors complained, and refused to sit still for longer than twenty minutes at a time. His mind flitted from subject to subject and never in a linear or logical progression which could be followed by a normal person. (Though if asked, Stiles would ask why anyone would want to be  _normal_ . It was so boring.) He did not  _mean_ to be troublesome, but it seemed that trouble often followed in his wake. Which, truth be told, was the biggest problem of all.   
  
Take, for example, the afternoon in late Spring that begins our story. It was a pleasantly warm day, as were most days in Stilinskiev, and Prince Stiles was bored. When most citizens of the Kingdom were bored they did one of three things: work, study or spar. As Prince of the realm, there was little need for Stiles to work unless in an official capacity. Sparring, as we’ve established just prior, was not a good idea unless someone wished to get hurt. And it wasn’t that Prince Stiles had anything  _against_ studying. As a matter of fact, he rather liked learning. He just didn’t see why learning had to always be done in dusty old libraries. His resistance to going about things the normal way led, as it often did, to mayhem, property damage and Stiles standing in front of his father’s throne.   
  
“It wasn’t my fault this time,” Stiles starts out, without waiting for his father to speak first. “We were just  _standing_ there--”  
  
“Stiles. Enough.” The Sheriff doesn’t look amused, his face drawn into an expression of seriousness that often accompanies tales of Stiles’ mischief. And the thing is, Stiles isn’t lying when he says it’s not his fault. Trouble just seems to follow him like a rain cloud, bringing chaos down wherever he goes.   
  
Both the Sheriff and his son are quiet for a moment. Then, “I think it’s about time you tour the Kingdom.”   
  
Stiles looks up in surprise. This is not the reaction he expected from his father after the destruction that befell the library that afternoon. “Father?” Stiles stood with his hands behind his back, using all of his (rather poor) self control to keep from fidgeting. He could feel the energy bubbling up under his skin, and knew he wouldn’t win against the need to be moving for long. He never did.  
  
“You’re sixteen now, Stiles. It’s time you understand the full responsibilities that will fall upon you in the future. I’ve arranged for Captain Finstock,” Stiles groane, but at his father’s glare fell silent. “And his men to accompany you through the Kingdom. You leave in the morning.” The Sheriff’s word was final, and Stiles knew better than to argue. “Remember that you are a Prince of Stilinksiev and I expect you to behave as one. That means to follow directions and not wander off on your own. Do you understand, Stiles?”  
  
Stiles nodded, and at his father’s frown said, “I understand father.” His father nodded, satisfied for the moment, and dismissed Stiles to prepare for the journey. Rather than go to his rooms to supervise packing (boring, and the castle staff would do a much better job of it than Stiles would), he headed to the castle watch in search of his one friend and ally, Scott of the clan McCall.   
  
He found the other young man, as he had expected, mooning over Lady Allison of Argent. From afar. It was beginning to be a problem if you asked Prince Stiles. Half of the Situations he and Scott got themselves into were the result of Scott’s mooning over the girl. (To be fair, the half of the other half of the Situations resulted from Stiles’ mooning over Lady Allison’s best friend, the incomparable Lady Lydia. It was also a problem. Stiles was working on it.) Stiles heaved a long suffering sigh and climbed up to sit next to Scott, their legs dangling over the wall as they spied the ladies on their walk around the gardens. It was too great a distance to hear what the girls were talking about, but Stiles just knew it had to do with the jackass Lydia was engaged to, Lord Jackson.   
  
Scott turned to look at him, one eyebrow arched. “Did you get in much trouble for the library?” Scott looked vaguely guilty, having escaped suspicion for his own involvement in the (really very tiny, hardly any damage was done) fire.   
  
Stiles shrugged. He didn’t expand further for a moment, trying to puzzle out his father’s reaction in his head. After a few moments of silence he said, “I’m being sent on a tour of the kingdom. I think my dad figures it will teach me responsibility and humility. He’s got the humility part right anyway. Finstock’s going to be my Keeper and you know what that means.” They shared a Look, followed by twin grimaces. Finstock was a buffoon but harmless, and on the bright side he was easy to get one over on. “Anyway, I’ve decided to think of it as an adventure. Far away lands, exotic princesses. Quests.” Stiles had dreamed for years of journeying on a Quest, but he’d never been allowed outside the walls of the Capitol. Too young, too impetuous, too clumsy--it didn’t matter the reasons because he was going to get his greatest desire at last.   
  
He shook himself out of the daydream of adventure and grinned at Scott. Who was frowning. Pouting actually, and looking at Stiles with the world’s saddest pair of puppy eyes. Stiles, however, was unaffected. Those puppy eyes had no power of him. He was resolute in his determination to ignore them--- “Oh my god, Scott. Stop it. Of course you’re coming with me. Stop looking like I ate your dessert or something.” As if that had ever been in question. Where Stiles went, so did Scott. They were attached at the hip, and had been since they were toddlers.   
  
Scott beamed, his smile dimming when he glanced back at Lady Allison. “Do you think she’ll miss me?” Scott’s eyes were hopeful, and Stiles didn’t have the heart to remind him that Lady Allison didn’t even know he existed.   
  
Instead he made a vague gesture with his head and patted Scott on the back. “Come on, McCall. We’ve got to convince your mother to let you into the wild with me.” That would be no small task, but Stiles was sure between the two of them they could talk Lady Melissa around.   
  
Scott gave Lady Allison one last, longing look, before following after Stiles.   
  
“Hey, think we’ll find any dragons to slay? That would get us attention.” Stiles was fascinated with the ancient tales of mythical creatures, and the Heroes that fought them. He’d memorized every tome in the library that even mentioned magic, and was an expert on the legends that trickled into the Kingdom from foreign visitors. “Or maybe a troll. Do you think there are trolls under bridges--”  
  
A scoffing laugh cut Stiles off midstream, and he turned to see Lord Jackson stride down the hall with his entourage. “Come now, Your Highness,” Jackson managed to make Your Highness sound like an insult. “You’re a bit too old to still believe in fairy tales, don’t you think?”   
  
Stiles rolled his eyes, intending on ignoring Jackson but the other boy made it impossible by stepping into his path, blocking the way. “You forget yourself, Lord Jackson,” Stiles said, trying to inject more confidence and power into the words than he felt. But ever since they’d been boys, Jackson had a talent for making him feel pathetic and weak, and nothing like a Prince. Some of it had to do with Jackson himself, who was everything a Prince should be: confident, athletic, charming, handy with a sword. He was also arrogant, prideful and vain. Nothing like Stiles, who stumbled over his feet and was socially awkward on the best of days.   
  
Jackson sketched out a mocking bow and stepped aside. “Better get some rest, My Liege,” Jackson said, voice dripping with insincere humility. “We leave at dawn.” There was no time for Stiles to react, as Jackson and his groupies pushed past and down the hall, disappearing around the corner with laughing trailing behind them.   
  
Stiles gaped, horrified at the implication, and for once speechless. All of a sudden, the promise of adventure didn’t seem so grand. 

**Author's Note:**

> This is just a tiny start of what will be a much longer work. Will probably update scene by scene, or once a week or so. 
> 
> As far as setting goes, it's your generic medieval fairy tale world really, though some anachronisms will pop in from time to time.


End file.
